


One Last Miracle

by CalSantiago



Category: Dark Souls, Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mild Smut, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4882714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalSantiago/pseuds/CalSantiago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surrounded by the calm waters of Ash Lake, the Chosen Undead finds himself reminiscing about the incident with Rhea at the Duke's Archives. He thinks back to their last moments together before he found her Hollow, when the maiden asked him to spend the night with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> A Chosen Undead/Rhea of Thorolund short story. Again. This is sort of a sequel to my other story, "Fragile Flower". Might wanna check that out first.
> 
> And I'm also probably the only guy in the entire Soulsborne fandom who seriously ships these two. XD

Small, gentle waves crashed onto the sandy shores of Ash Lake. Every now and then, a gentle breeze would blow through the trunks and branches of the giant Archtrees, making a soft, whistling noise. It almost sounded like the chirping of birds. The lake was dark, but illuminated by a pale blue light coming from above. It was not quite moonlight, however-- there was something more mysterious, more ethereal about it. There was just something about this place, about this lake, that seemed to calm one's senses and thoughts.

But for the young man sitting on the shore, neither his senses nor his thoughts were calmed. He was fully clad in armor, but was in no mood to fight. His helmet, sword and shield lay next to him on the sand. As he stared at the lake, dirty blonde hair swaying in the breeze, he could not help but think of terrible, haunting thoughts. Thoughts of a dark prison cell in the Duke's Archives. Thoughts of being forced to fight and murder someone against his will. Thoughts of an agonized scream as his sword dealt the finishing blow. Thoughts of the woman he loved, dying by his own hands.

Rhea...

The Chosen Undead could only sigh. He felt as if the life had been drained from him. A week had passed since the incident. The young man had decided not to let grief overcome him, and continued on with his mission to collect all the Lord Souls. He had recently slain the Witch of Izalith, or what was left of her, in the Bed of Chaos. He was so close to accomplishing his mission now. And yet, the Chosen Undead felt empty. He felt as if he was only pushing on as a half-hearted means to prevent himself from going Hollow. So what if he collected all the Lord Souls? So what if he successfully linked the fire? What would happen once all of that was over and done with?

_"When I return from my mission... Perhaps we can have a fresh start, and find a new home... Together."_

The Chosen Undead gritted his teeth as his own words echoed in his mind. He still could not forgive himself for that broken promise. Back then, he was full of optimism and hope. He genuinely believed that he would be able to live a normal life again. The young man remembered having a big smile on his face when he made that promise. He remembered the look of sheer happiness on Rhea's face; how her eyes gleamed with hope for the future. How she smiled... He could never get enough of her smile.

"There you are. Everything all right?"

The young man turned around to see his best friend standing behind him, worried. A man dressed in simple iron armor, with a yellow sun insignia on the white tunic he wore over it. His face was weary, his eyes bloodshot. He had a bloody bandage tightly wrapped around his head. A few specks of dried blood were still on his short, light blonde hair. Solaire of Astora. The Chosen Undead had found the knight in Lost Izalith, and managed to save him from being possessed by a Sunlight Maggot. He was badly injured from the attack, however, and sustained a large wound on his head. The young man did not expect Solaire to stubbornly follow him all the way to the lake.

"I'm fine, Solaire," the Chosen Undead said. "You should be more worried about yourself. How is your head? Has the bleeding stopped?"

"I think so," Solaire nodded. "It won't be long before I am in fighting condition again. Then we can go after that last Lord Soul."

"All right then," the Chosen Undead said, almost half-heartedly.

"Is something bothering you?" the worried knight asked again.

"I told you, I'm fine—"

"You're still thinking about her, aren't you? About Rhea..."

The Chosen Undead froze upon hearing that name. He felt his chest tightening. His eyes were beginning to sting as he fought the tears that were forming. He continued to stare blankly into space, barely noticing Solaire sitting on the sand next to him. He felt the Sunlight Warrior lay a hand on his shoulder.

"I am truly sorry for your loss," the knight said grimly. "I really am. If... If ever you want to talk about it, then I shall gladly listen... You know that I am here for you, brother."

"Thank you. I... I appreciate it," was all the young man could say.

"Perhaps it is best if we stay here and rest for a while," Solaire said. "It will give you time to clear your head, and for mine to heal as well..." After saying this, he lied down on the sand, folding his hands behind his head. It wasn't long before the Sunlight Warrior had fallen asleep, getting some much deserved rest. 

The Chosen Undead continued to stare at the lake as memories of his beloved came flooding back.

He thought back to their first meeting. The cleric maiden had been polite, but noticeably uncomfortable around him and was focused solely on her mission. Back then he knew he could not fraternize with her even if he wanted to, for he had his own mission to worry about. He remembered finding her in the Tomb of the Giants. The maiden sobbed in a corner, lost, afraid and injured. He remembered mercy-killing her friends who had gone Hollow and carrying her all the way back to Firelink Shrine. She cried silently as she clung tightly to him. He remembered murdering the traitorous bastard who left her to die. He remembered visiting her in the Undead Parish as often as he could, hoping to comfort her and see her smile once more. 

He thought back to the precious bond of friendship they had been able to form. He brought simple gifts for her, such as a flower on the path or a small gemstone. Rhea seemed to recover more and more each day, excitedly greeting him with a warm embrace whenever he came to visit. He remembered the times when they would spend entire afternoons simply engaging in conversation; how the two of them would sit on the windowsill and watch the sunset. He remembered visiting her on rainy days. She had grown to trust him enough to let him wrap his arms around her and keep her warm. She would rest her head on his shoulder, breathing softly and enjoying the closeness they had. He remembered the day he let slip his feelings for her, and how she reciprocated. He remembered the first kiss they shared.

He remembered the last night they spent together.

The Chosen Undead hesitated. Why was all this coming back to him? Why now?

The memory of that moment was crystal clear in his mind... The sun had long since set and the moon was rising higher into the sky. The Chosen Undead had stood up from his seat after learning one last miracle from his friend and lover. He was ready to leave and return to his mission, when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked at Rhea, and saw that she had a worried look on her face. It was a look that was all too familiar to him by then, once he had told her of his mission. Rhea could not help but worry; after all, he was the only person she lad left in this cruel world and she did not want to lose him as well. It pained the Chosen Undead to see her like this. He did not want to leave her, but he knew that the sooner he was able to accomplish his mission, the sooner the two of them would be able to start their new life together.

_"Rhea, please... I must go. Know that I am doing this all for you. For the both of us..."_

_"I do not want to stop you, believe me... I know that this mission is very important. But... I just have a favor to ask."_

_"What is it?"_

_"Please... Just stay a little while longer. Will you... spend the night with me?"_

_"Rhea..."_

The Chosen Undead clutched at his chest. He did not know what to feel. This memory brought him unimaginable pain, and yet, it was also very dear to him. He could not just forget it even if he wanted to. He let out a deep sigh as he decided to let the memory flow freely in his mind.

The young man recalled how the two found themselves locked in a passionate kiss. The Chosen Undead had not expected the shy young maiden to request such a thing from him, and yet, he couldn't deny her. He would be lying to himself if he said that the thought hadn't crossed his mind at least once. It seemed Rhea felt the same way. Once she pulled back from the kiss, the Chosen Undead saw the longing look in her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed red, but still Rhea leaned in to renew the kiss. The Chosen deepened their kiss as the maiden ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him in even closer.

He recalled how he was quickly on her, his kisses moving from her lips to her neck. Rhea giggled at the ticklish sensation, but nevertheless let her lover have his way. The young man found his hands tugging at the hem of Rhea's robes. He looked at the maiden, as if to ask permission. She seemed hesistant, but her desire to be with him was stronger than whatever feelings of apprehension she had at that moment. The Chosen couldn't stop his jaw from dropping once he saw Rhea out of her robes. The maiden blushed violently, but the young man reassured her with a gentle kiss.

_"You look so beautiful..."_

He thought of how he had laid on his back as she took his clothes off for him, reveling in the feeling of her soft, smooth fingers against his rough skin. She let out a soft gasp at the sight of his muscular, but scarred, body. The Chosen Undead was surprised when he felt her lips on his chest. As light, gentle kisses trailed down to his stomach, the young man felt himself growing more excited. Rhea noticed this as well, and her hand slyly slipped down to the area between his legs. The Chosen could only smile at her. He knew that they were both eager to get started, and he did not want to keep her waiting any longer.

"Rhea..." the Chosen Undead muttered to himself as the memory continued to play in his head.

He remembered the distinct sensation of her bare skin against his. He remembered the soft mewls that escaped from the maiden's lips as his tongue swirled around a hardened nipple. Rhea moaned even more once his free hand had gotten hold of the other breast. The Chosen couldn't help but smile at the sensual, yet still adorable sounds she was making. She clutched the hair on his head and made him face her. The maiden's face was completely red, but her eyes gave away the desire that was boiling inside of her.

_"Please, do not tease me any longer..."_

The Chosen Undead remembered how it felt when he and Rhea made love. The maiden bit the bottom of her lip as he slowly, carefully slid inside of her. The young man could feel his heart sink when he saw tears running down Rhea's cheeks. He couldn't bear to think that he had hurt her. But the maiden reassured him, and told him to keep going for she wanted this just as much as he did. He obliged. He thought of how she held on to him as he moved in and out of her; how she tightly gripped his shoulders as she kissed his neck. He remembered the moans that escaped her lips every time he thrust into her. With each passing minute the two bodies moved more and more passionately, more vigorously. They wanted to relish every second of this encounter, for they knew that it would not last even if they desperately wanted it to. They were close. They could feel it coming...

The Chosen Undead remembered how she called out his name when they reached climax; how her legs wrapped around his hips and her fingernails dug into his back. 

He remembered how the two of them were locked in a moment of pure bliss, and whatever duties and worries they had had temporarily disappeared. He and Rhea were together, and that was all that mattered. And once the Chosen's mission was accomplished, they could finally start anew and find a new home. As the two kissed one last time before drifting off to sleep, they felt nothing but happiness and hope.

But now, the Chosen Undead felt the complete opposite.

The young man had finally taken his eyes off the lake, and buried his face in his hands. He sobbed, almost as much as he did back at the Duke's Archives. Rhea was gone, and she wasn't coming back. The life they had planned to have together was not to be. Now, the Chosen Undead had only one thing left: his mission. 

And so, as the young man wiped the tears from his face, he resolved to finish what he started. He was going to accomplish his mission. Once Solaire had recovered, the two of them would go after the final Lord Soul and link the fire. Even if he was utterly broken and had a gaping hole in his heart, he would do it. The Chosen Undead would see his duty through to the end. Then perhaps, he could finally find peace.


End file.
